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My peers, that is, liberal arts educated, urban aesthetes, have been preoccupied since graduation with their path in this world. It’s not a novel notion for a human being to be concerned with where he’s going, since there are no longer any natural rhythms or movements for our species, no migration patterns, no perennial hunting grounds. We can fly around the world in a leather recliner: the sky’s the limit for us. Yet, this freedom of opportunity in a way is self-inhibiting. The vast array of options is arresting. Only the single-minded can wade through those options on the first try.

A lot of my peers, while in angst over their path, have found themselves in situations born of the necessity of paying bills and loans. Ask them if these first jobs are fulfilling. The answer would be bleak. Ask them then if they believe they can move on from that job to something better suited to them. The response would be better. Quite a few, though, would tell you that their current occupation is getting them nowhere because it is wholly unrelated to what they plan to do or even what they find interesting in life. Those who studied in college what they found interesting thus see themselves with inapplicable degrees.

There is certainly value to how we educate ourselves, which poems we explicate, hearts we dissect, websites we build. The absurdity of a liberal arts degree, however, arises with the expectation that it entitles the bearer to an easier life. Odd that so many of us got the impression that having written fifty pages on Themes of Love and Beauty in Cave Paintings or The Impact of Geography on the Concept of Erosion would somehow set us up for a higher quality of life than the average American. These schools supposedly have career services offices. Instead of hiring a new Dean of Plurality or Sustainability Coordinator, colleges could use some of their endowment to lure students into visiting those offices before senior year.

The idea of thinking about life outside of the campus bubble, though, is anathema to many undergraduates. Better to borrow some Ritalin and focus on what really matters: these four special years of self-invented activities and impractical core curricula, where there are few adults and no children. No one would ever dispute that it’s a fun time. The argument lies in whether or not it’s worthwhile.

“College for everyone” is the refrain of many policymakers. Perhaps a sound idea, but anecdotal evidence, at least from this cohort, shows that college doesn’t serve anyone well unless they think how they’re going to apply it to their lives after they turn twenty-two. That may be unfair to the many graduates who do think about their futures or who honestly believe that their obscure degree will lead to a job when every other person with that obscure degree will be vying for those same jobs. Many of us were indeed planning, we might have just gotten a little carried away with the idea that adult life could be as intellectually stimulating and sensually pleasing as our post-adolescent existence. Most people fall victim to runaway imaginations, but when you have a whole group of people with highly developed imaginations, the delusions can be startling.

Of course, most of my peers by this point have accepted the unpleasant reality of living in an economy crawling out of a recession, in a society that cannot agree on values, in a country that is no longer exceptional, in a world that is on the brink of mutual destruction while preparing for the Summer Olympics. We get it now. Acknowledgment of our reality, however, does not put us any closer to finding our paths.

We aren’t any closer because there may still be one piece of the adult puzzle that we are not identifying. Passions are not paths. Many of my friends found their passions in college. That’s why they treasure the experience. Of course, everyone wants to make a living out of what they love. No one wants to be disgruntled, but maybe we are setting ourselves up for just that by desiring to pursue interests that aren’t jobs. We spent so much money and time cultivating those interests. They would seem to be going to waste in a cubicle, but aren’t they going to waste in a coffee shop too?

Finding a path is not a linear activity, as much as we conceive of it as being a straight line. The first step after college might set us on a trajectory nowhere near the one we want to be on. Where we go from there is significant. It not only determines where we are headed as individuals, but it signals the direction of society. We can find a spiritually fulfilling path or a practical one, rarely both at once. The choice now is which one will we step towards next.